Once Bitten, Twice Pissed
by blueland10
Summary: AU: Gordon is out on the prowl and Sam will do anything to keep Dean safe. Only problem is, Dean doesn't think he needs protecting. Sequel to A Man Among Dogs. Skinwalker!Dean
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: welp! here it is! the sequel of A Man Among Dogs! I know this is a bit short but the second chapter should be much longer! Thank you to all who supported me with AMAD, I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it! So, here is Once Bitten, Twice Pissed! Enjoy!**

**this is not beta'd so all mistakes are mine**

**warning for language and possible graphic images **

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Officer Jody Mills would never forget the first case she worked after joining the Sioux Falls County Police Department. It was going to take years to scrub the gory images of those three naked bodies buried in shallow graves or the blood stained torture chamber hidden beneath the remains of the burning house. She knew that eventually the haunting smell of charred wood and burnt flesh would be pushed aside by another nightmare; she was a smart girl after all. The images might be gone perhaps from the forefront of her mind but she knew they would be tucked away quietly, ready to rear their ugly head at some inappropriate time. But the one thing she will never forget, no matter how many cases she worked, was how an impossibly fucked up case wrapped itself up so beautifully, so seamlessly that it came complete with a bow on top.

The call had come in early, around twelve, a concerned citizen reporting gunfire coming from a house down the road. The prospect of riding off to her first case sent the butterflies in her stomach dancing. Her partner flashed a weary smile at her poorly hidden excitement as they settled themselves into the patrol car but, Jody's high quickly slipped away as they pulled up to the scene. The house in question was spewing angry flames, its roof slowly crumbling in on itself. It was then that it became clear to Jody that their domestic disturbance call had morphed into something much more serious and the glee she felt snapped to fear. Gruesome thoughts raced across her mind. What if there were people in there? What if there were children? Nausea bubbled in her stomach as she waited with bated breath for the fire department.

Two fire trucks and hours of battling fire later, the grizzly picture before her became clear.

In total there were seven bodies on the property, four inside burned to the bone and three outside thrown carelessly into a grave. It would take a while for the forensics to come back with names to go with the bodies but if Jody was a betting woman, she'd bet that whoever lived in this house got what was coming for them. If the bodies in the grave where anything to go by then the little white room under the house confirmed that these people where monsters.

The thick concrete floor of the house had been saved due to the fire department's rapid response. Parts of it had begun to crack and crumble but the underground bunker like basement that was hidden below, was saved from any real damage. With a stern warning from her partner to be careful, Jody descended down the rickety stairs of the cellar and pulled open the heavy metal door that looked suspiciously covered in blood. Jody found herself standing at the beginning of a dark hallway, the lights above her busted by the fire. Cautiously she took a step forward, mindful of the cracked ceiling. The stench of decay was over powering. Acid climbed up her throat the further she went. She forced herself to take deep steadying breaths through her mouth as she checked the first two doors on the hall. So far she had found nothing but when she reached the second door on the left she lost the war with her stomach and her lunch came up to meet her. Inside the room there where chains on the white walls, dried blood on the tile floor, and a body of a man who, from the looks of it, had his throat ripped out by an animal. Jody felt like she was going to be sick all over again. The rancid smell of burnt wood and death hung in the air, stinging her brown eyes. She could feel her hands tremble as she took it all in. Jody reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her radio. After a short message to her partner requesting forensics to come down and take a look, she scrambled from the torture room as fast as possible, not wanting to be down there any longer.

Another hour later, the sheriff let Jody head back to the station pale and trembling. In all the ways her new career as a police officer could have gone, she was stuck with this gory beginning and things only started to go downhill from there. Whoever started the fire knew what they were doing. There were no traces of DNA anywhere, the incriminating evidence burned away by the flames. All Jody and the police had to go on were a hand full of undamaged shell casings deliberately placed by the bodies mockingly. It was as if the killer knew how little evidence there was and left the casings as a helping hand.

The forensics preliminary findings came back later that day claiming that the four bodies caught in the fire suffered from multiple gunshot wounds to the sternum and ribs explaining the casings. But something about the undamaged shells wasn't sitting right with Jody. Something about them seemed, fake, like a set up in the making.

To make matters worse, the man from the torture room, identified as one Kev Anderson, was mauled to death by something, not an animal like she suspected, just something. Whatever killed Anderson certainly wasn't human and according to the DNA results, it wasn't an animal either. The medical examiner said the same about the three bodies found in the graves. They certainly looked human but all tests clearly showed that they were not. Jody rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. Things were starting to sound a little too X-Files for her.

She was just about to pack up for the night, ready to leave this hellish day in the past, when her desk phone rang.

"Officer Mills speaking, how can I help you?" she answered.

"I know who set that fire." a rough voice replied.

"Excuse me?"

"That fire, that's all over the news, I know who set it." the voice grumbled. "Fresh Horses Saloon in Harrisburg, you'll find 'em there."

"Can I get your name sir?" Jody asked reaching for a pen. It was a long shot at best. The case had just been reported on the news hours ago, the likelihood that this 'tip' was the real deal was slim to none. "Sir?" she said again but her only reply was the dial tone. After a quick google check, Jody scribbled down the address and rushed into her captain's office.

"What can I do for you Mills?" Captain Hobbs, an older man with a quickly receding hairline, asked in a strained voice.

"I got an anonymous tip about Anderson house fire. Someone claims the person behind all this is at a bar in Harrisburg." She rattled off.

"Do you believe them?" Hobbs asked with a questioning glance, testing her. Jody bit her lip. It could be a prank call but the case was so fresh, a tip line hadn't even been set up yet. And there was that nagging feeling in her gut that something wasn't right, itching for attention.

"I think it's worth looking into Sir." She said confidently. Hobbs looked her over once more, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.

"Ok then, take Davis and Weatherly with you." he said shuffling some papers on his desk. "Call it in if the tip turns into anything."

"Yes sir." She said before backing out of the office. Twenty minutes later three patrol cars were pulling up to the darkened windows of the bar.

"Cap's gonna give you hell if this turns out to be a bust you know that right rookie?" Jody's partner stated as he shut the engine off.

"And what happens if I'm right?" she smirked checking the safety on her gun.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves here."

Jody rolled her eyes and stepped out of the car, anticipation slowly growing in her gut. The group walked up to the door of the bar, hands resting cautiously on the guns at their hips.

"Well rookie, this is your rodeo." Davis said with a pointed nod to the door. With shaking hands Jody knocked sharply on the worn oak door.

"Sioux Falls PD!" she called out. "We'd like to ask you a couple of questions!" There was no answer so she tried again. "Hello? Sioux Falls PD open up!" But her calls fell on deaf ears.

"Well, everybody falls for a fake tip now and again." her partner said clapping her on the back. "don't beat yourself up too much."

"It wasn't a fake." Jody said knocking again.

"Sure it wasn't and Captain Hobbs is the nicest man I'll ever meet." Weatherly snorted. "Give it up rookie; you fell for a fake tip."

"I'm tellin' y'all, this isn't a fake tip!" she cried with desperation in her voice. Her gut was practically screaming at her that this was it, something was hidden behind the bar door that would help them solve the case. "I'm going in there."

"You don't have a warrant Mills." Her partner said.

"Well then I better hope that I find something." She said before yanking on the door handle and stepping into the darkened bar. The sharp scent of blood hit her as she made her way into the building, her gun held at the ready. Behind her she could hear the shuffled steps of her companions glancing over the empty space. A muffled groan drew Jody's attention to the far end of the bar. Cautiously she kept across the worn floorboards, coming to a stop in front of a figure of a man slumped on the floor.

Around the man there were building lay outs, spotted and stained with blood. A gun rested innocently by the man's leg and the undeniable smell of gasoline wafted off his slumped form. The man moaned once more and began to stir, lifting his head as if it weight tons.

"Hold it right there partner." Jody said sternly, her gun trained on the man's face. Over head, the lights flickered to life, illuminating the dirty bar. In the light, Jody could see blood crusting the man's dark skin and the tall tale signs of a forming swollen eye. Beside her, Davis, Weatherly, and her partner began toeing through the papers scattered around careful not to contaminate the evidence.

"These are the layouts to the Anderson house." Davis stated. "And I bet the blood on them would match one of the victims."

"Same with the gun." Her partner added.

"Well, it looks like you've got some explaining to do mister." Jody said before hauling the man to his feet and slapping cuffs around his wrists.

The suspect went by the name of Gordon Walker, a nomad and drifter. No home address, no living relatives, just a beat up red Chevy El Camino and a trunk full of nasty weapons. With the way he was found and the lack of a warrant to back up Jody's search many, including Jody herself, believed Mr. Walker would fight the charges brought against him. However, much to the department's surprise Mr. Walker confessed to the crime and all the murders. The evidence collected at the crime scene came back as a positive match to the victim's blood and the gun matched the undamaged shell casings. Along with his confession, Mr. Walker was guilty as guilty could be.

And that was how Jody Mills first case, the case from hell, ended so perfectly. So perfect in fact that the sheer perfection of it sent off little red flags in Jody's mind. With the case closed, all Jody could do was make copies of the reports and study them over her morning coffee. There was something off about this case and she damn well was going to find it.

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**TBC...**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n: yay chapter two! Thank you so much for the follows/favorites/reviews so far! Y'all are the best! I feel like I should have said before that you need to read A Man Among Dogs first for this story to make sense. I am also posting this on my livejournal as well, the link for that can be found on my profile page. Anywho, enjoy chapter two :)**

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**Eleven Years Later**

Sam Winchester jerked awake just as his common law book slipped from his lap and landed with a thud on his toe.

"Son of a bitch!" he cursed, kicking the book away, only adding to his pain. "Fuck!"

"Whoa there sailor." Jess smirked from her perch on the recliner on the opposite side of the room, the soft mummer of the television acting as background noise. Her golden hair hung in loose curls around her face as her blue eyes fixed on Sam, sending a shiver of desire down his spine. "What did that poor book ever do to you?"

"Besides fall on my toe?" He asked with a raise of his eyebrows.

"Maybe if you were reading it instead of sleeping it wouldn't have fallen into a deep depression and jumped to its death off of your lap." She pointed out as her fingers ruffled the pages of her own book.

"Oh I see, take the book's side why don't you, you traitor." He teased.

"Well that's not very nice, who cooked you dinner tonight?" she asked with a pout. "A dinner might I add, that just so happened to be your favorite."

"Nope, too late. You can't bribe me with your exceptional culinary skills, the deed it done." he said solemnly with a shake of his head.

"Well then," Jess smiled wickedly setting her own book down on the floor and sauntering over to him. She straddled his lap and touched her forehead to his, her blue eyes smoldering. "I guess I'll just have to find another way to bribe you."

Sam's heart picked up speed as Jess's familiar weight settled, her warm breath ghosting across his cheek, the smell of cookie dough and lilies filling his nose.

"I think I can be swayed to forgive you, what did you have in mind?"

"this." She said right before placing a deep kiss on his lips. Sam leaned into it, his hands stroking up and down her sides, soft moans melding with the constant babble from the TV. Jess pulled back much to Sam's disappointment, her face flushed.

Jessica Moore was, by far, the best thing to ever happen to Sam. Wide eyed and drowning in a sea of unfamiliar territory, Jess was his life float sent from above. Her bright confident smile and exuberant personality won him over the second she said hello that fateful day in the library.

It had been a rainy September day. The skies were heavy with iron grey clouds and icy rain fell to the ground in sharp bullets. Sam had exiled himself to the library, determined to finish the twelve page paper his intro into Psych professor had assigned. It seemed at first, a simple task. After all, he was an expert researcher thanks to his dad. All those times his father banished him to the local library to look up lore certainly helped hone his researching abilities but, as the hours wore on and the headache began to build, Sam could feel his hope of finishing early falling. He just needed one book. One stupid book and he would be done. He ended up spending an hour looking for it, scouring almost every aisle in the massive library only to find out that some J. Moore had checked it out five minutes ago after it had been returned to the circulation desk. Sam's shoulders hunched as he walked dejectedly back to the little table where he had set up camp, completely oblivious to the pretty blonde tracking his movement.

"_Hey, you're in Dr. Shapiro's Psych class right_?" the pretty blonde piped up from behind the book she held in her hands.

"_M-me_?" Sam responded, taken aback by how loud her voice was in the quite space.

"_No, the person behind you_." she chuckled. Sam felt a blush creep up his neck as he ducked his head in embarrassment. "_Yes you silly, I recognize you from lecture. You sit in the very back by the window_."

"_That's – that's very observant of you_." Sam said shifting his weight from foot to foot. He was never good at being the center of attention, especially after his dad drilled the importance of anonymity into him for as long as he could remember.

"_What can I say; I'm the queen of attention to deal_." The blonde smiled, making Sam's stomach flip. She was beautiful with long curly blonde hair, and deep blue eyes. Sam could already feel himself falling for her. _Hook, line and sinker huh Sammy?_ Dean's voice echoed in his head. Blinking rapidly, Sam shoved the thought of his brother to the back of his mind and out of sight. "_So how's your paper going_?"

"_Uh ok I guess_."

"_Yeah I didn't think I'd ever finish it without that book he mentioned in class but, as luck would have it_…" she said gesturing at the little green book that sat in front of her.

"_That wouldn't happen to be Jean Piaget's book on Cognitive Theory would it_?"

"_Guess you've been looking for it too_?"

"_All freakin' day_." He sighed.

"_Well take a load off, you can share it with me_." she smiled kicking the chair next to her out. Sam gave her a tentative smiled and sat down. "_I'm Jessica Moore_."

"_Sam Winchester_."

"_Nice to meet you Sam Winchester_."

And just like that, they had clicked. They went from study buddies, to friends, to more than friends in just a few short months. Before he knew it, three years had gone by and the thought of marriage had crossed Sam's mind more than once. He knew that he'd never find a girl like Jess anywhere else and he didn't want to. He wanted to grow old with her, start a family with her; he wanted it to be Sam and Jess forever.

Jess was busy peppering his neck with feather soft kisses as his thoughts wandered upstairs to the little black box hidden away in his underwear drawer. He had it all planned out. He was going to take her to the beach, spend the day relaxing in the sun, and then he'd take her dinner. After dinner they'd go for one last walk on the beach. That was when Sam planned on dropping down on one knee and asking Jessica Moore, the love of his life, to make him the happiest man alive. But at this moment, with Jess so close, he felt like throwing caution to the wind. Just a couple of little words and he could start the rest of his life tonight.

Sam was just about take the big step, his hands resting firmly on Jess's hips, his heart beating wildly against his rib cage, when a name fizzled out of the TV speakers making his racing heart freeze.

"A nationwide man – hunt has been issued for convicted killer, Gordon Walker, who escaped early this morning from Minnesota Correctional Facility after a violent riot broke out, killing twenty inmates as well as five police officers. Walker is convicted of the murders of eight people in 1994 and is suspected in over a dozen other crimes…"

The news anchors voice tapered off as the buzzing in Sam's head grew louder. Gordon had escaped. Gordon Walker, the man that nearly killed his brother. _Oh god, Dean_. Sam felt the bile rise in his throat as he jumped to his feet, dumping Jess unceremoniously on the ground.

"Sam, baby?" Jess questioned, watching him with wide eyes. "What's going on?"

"I-I need to make a call." He said breathlessly before darting out of the apartment, the door slamming shut behind him. Sam ran down the stairs not stopping until he feet touched the sun warmed pavement of the sidewalk. With shaking hands he grabbed his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed the only number he could recite in his sleep.

"_You've_ _reached Dean's phone, leave your nightmare after the beep_."

"Dean, its Sam. Call me man." Sam said quickly before hanging up and trying again. Sometime after his twentieth unanswered call, Sam switched tactics and dialed Bobby's number. Again he was met with a recording. Sam could feel his blood turn to ice in his veins. Thoughts flew through his mind, thoughts of blood, teeth, and death. He was vaguely aware of Jess watching him through the window but he couldn't bring himself to care. He knew she'd have questions, questions he couldn't answer.

Sam pulled at his shaggy hair when Bobby's recorded voice crackled through his phone's speakers for the millionth time. He needed to know. He needed to hear his brother's voice just to be sure. He needed to know that he was fine, safe, hold up with some girl or hustling some poor loser at pool just for fun. And goddamn Dean if he was ignoring him. Sam knew their dad was a stubborn son of a bitch but Dean was different. Dean was always there for Sam, he never ignored Sam when he called. The overwhelming need to see his brother, right the hell no, washed over him. Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Sam made his way inside, his mind made up on what he had to do.

"Sam, what's going on? Is everything ok?" Jess asked the second he walked through the door, her eyes full of concern and worry.

"I'm not really sure." He mumbled, stalking past her heading for the bedroom.

"Tell me what's going on." She demanded following close behind him. "You're scaring me Sam."

"I-I" he said rubbing his forehead. "I need to see my brother."

"Did something happen to him?"

"I don't know." Sam whispered softly, his voice cracking. He felt the warmth of Jess's hand come to rest on his back before she wrapped her arms around him and held him close.

"Do you want me to come with you?" she asked gently, her breath coasting across his cheek. Sam felt his heart constrict at her words. Jess hardly knew a thing about his family other than he had a brother and father and they weren't exactly on speaking turns. She knew family was a sensitive subject and gave Sam all the space he needed. But here she was, ready to drop everything and leave with Sam to check on a brother he never talked about. His love for her was starting to reach astronomical levels.

Despite how moved he was by her offer, he wasn't ready for Jess to be exposed to the nightmare he called his family. He didn't think he would ever be ready to share that part of his life with her. He didn't belong to that life anymore; that was his past, Jess was his future.

"I need to do this on my own."

"Are you sure baby?"

"Yeah," he breathed. "Just a couple of days, that's all. I'll be back before you know it."

"I love you." she said her eyes shining brightly in the dim light of their bedroom.

"I love you too." He spun her around so she was pressed up against his chest and kissed her deeply on the lips. Sam held on tightly, never wanting to let go. He breathed her in like this was the last time he'd ever see her again. He took in the softness of her hair, the scent of cookie dough, the warmth of skin on his. _It's just a few days, maybe less_. He reassured himself. He'd be back in no time and Jess would still be there, perfect as always.

"Let's get you packed up." She said breaking the kiss apart and turning her back on him. Sam nodded in agreement and began throwing socks into his duffle bag.

After a short argument where Jess had demanded that Sam take the car and a deep kiss later, Sam was pulling away from the apartment building, the headlights of the car cutting through the inky darkness of the night. Dean better have a good excuse for not answered his phone or there would be hell to pay.

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**TBC...**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n: Hey y'all! Sorry about the delay in updating, it's coming down to the last couple of weeks of the semester and I've been busy studying and finishing up projects. But the good news is, once the semester is over I'll be free to write! Just to clear up any confusion, AMAD ended during Sam's freshman year of College. This story does not take place right after AMAD. Instead it starts right after John, Bobby, and Sam rescue Dean from the training house. So when I said eleven years later in Chapter two, it is eleven years after the rescue, not eleven years from the end of AMAD. Sam is 22 in this fic and Dean is 26, the same ages as they are in the pilot. **

**Anyways enough about that! Without further adieu, here is Chapter three!**

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Sam reached the South Dakota border late the next night. He found the cheapest motel and left Jess a short message informing her that he was still a couple of hours away but he was safe and he loved her very much. As he slid the key into the lock he couldn't hold back the flood of memories of nights just like this one. He couldn't even begin to count how many hole – in – the – wall places like this he lived in when he was a kid. The list was endless. Living his life out of motels was one of the factors that motivated him to leave the hunting life behind. Who wanted to live in shit holes like this for the rest of their life anyways? Dean had always said that it didn't matter what condition the room was in, as long as they had a roof over their heads they were golden. Dean had always been a fucking optimist.

Dumping his bag on the dusty floor, Sam flopped down on the mattress, the springs groaning in protest. He closed his eyes and breathed in the musty air. This was all Dean's fault. If he had just picked up his damn phone, he could be back in California with Jess. He wouldn't be here; running back to life he swore he'd never be part of again. But no, Dean had to go mess everything up.

A pang of guilt thrummed through his chest. It wasn't really Dean's fault, not really. He was just pissed. Why did everything have to go to hell now? His life was finally right where he wanted it to be. He didn't think it was asking too much to keep it that way.

Sam always knew that he would leave the hunting life. He had a longing to be normal, to go to school, to find someone and settle down, all the things he couldn't have as a hunter. It wasn't a hard decision to make to pack up his bags and grab the first bus to California. What had been hard was leaving his brother behind. It was a cruel twist of fate to find his long lost brother only to lose him again to his dream of a normal life. But Dean had supported him where his father hadn't. He was the only one to encourage him to apply to school after school. His dad just huffed and rolled his eyes like Sam was speaking a foreign language every time he mentioned college. Dean had been there when Sam had received his acceptance letter from Stanford, pride shining in his eyes. Dean had even stood up to their dad the night Sam planned to leave, something Sam never thought he'd see. His dad was red in the face from yelling, his hands clenched into angry fists. All it took as a step towards where Sam stood by the door and Dean was there, pushing John back.

His dad would never intentionally hit him or Dean but that night Sam couldn't be sure. He had taken the distraction and ran from the shack they were squatting in and never looked back. That had been the last time he'd seen his dad. Dean on the other hand, found him a couple months later. He and Jess were walking back to their dorm when she spotted him, a pretty German Shepherd dog sitting on the sidewalk. Sam of course hadn't seen him but, later that night he found a note written in Dean's sloppy print. Sam found a couple more notes throughout the year but after a while the notes stopped coming and Sam stopped looking for them.

It wasn't like he meant to fall out of contact with Dean, he was just busy. Besides, communication was a two-way street; Dean was the one who stopped checking in. With a sigh, Sam slung his arm to rest over his eyes his guilt intensifying. He could have tried harder. He could have called Dean instead of waiting for a note. Maybe if he had all of this would have been avoided. A sickening thought crossed his mind that maybe Dean was ignoring him, pay back for all those years. _No_, he thought, _Dean wouldn't do that to me. He couldn't_.

Rolling over to his side, Sam attempted to clear his mind. If he wanted to make it to Bobby's by noon he needed to get some sleep and thinking about the 'what ifs' wasn't going to help.

~*0*~

Consciousness came to Sam slowly; the pleasant remnants of a dream keeping him drifting in limbo. Flashes of blue eyes and soft skin danced around in his mind as the sounds of a nearby truck stop pierced through his dreamy haze. Slowly he blinked his eyes open to the shafts of sunlight seeping through cheap motel curtains. Groaning Sam rolled over onto his back and rubbed his bleary eyes wishing for just a few more minutes of blissful sleep. He was on the verge of sleep when a truck horn blasted through the calm morning air causing Sam to jerk upright in bed, wide awake. Cursing he reached for his phone to check for messages. It would be in typical Dean fashion to call him once he was already over half way there, telling him he had nothing to worry about. But an empty mail box was all that Sam found. He dialed his brother's number one last time just to see if he'd pick up.

"_You've_ _reached Dean's phone, leave your nightmare after the beep_."

Sam ended the call before the beep. His stupid idiot of a brother, how hard was it for him to pick up the phone and give Sam some peace. He knew Bobby's had a tv and internet. He knew Dean must have heard the news. A little voice in his head whispered his fear but Sam shut it up with a punch to the mattress.

Pushing himself up from the bed, Sam pulled on his dirty pair of jeans and reached around his duffel for a clean shirt. It wasn't that late into the morning so Sam figured if he was a little flexible with the speed limit he'd make it to Bobby's right before lunch. After a quick check out and a nauseating breakfast at the truck stop, he was on the road.

Cow pastures and crop fields flew past his window as he raced along the empty highway. His initial fears had begun to dwindle over the length of his trip but as he grew closer and closer to Bobby's junk yard Sam could feel them intensifying again. What if he was too late? He shouldn't have stopped last night and drove right to Bobby's. Gordon could have already gotten his revenge and killed them all. Or worse, he still had them and was killing them slowly. The optimistic voice in his head tried to calm his panic. Maybe Dean was on a hunt, that's why he wasn't answering his phone; he'd always been a bitch about answering his phone while on a hunt. But that didn't explain why Bobby wasn't answering. Bobby always answered his phone that was his job. He was the lifeline of the hunting world, he _always_ answered. Sam could try and call his father but he knew that would be pointless. John made it perfectly clear that he wanted nothing to do with Sam anymore. Dean and Bobby were all Sam had left. He couldn't lose them too. Drumming his sweaty fingers on the steering wheel he pushed down on the gas pedal urging the car to move faster.

He made it to Bobby's junk yard in record time. As he pulled up the long gravel driveway he saw the Impala parked off by the garage, the sleek black metal gleaming in the afternoon sun. Sam's heart fluttered with hope. If the Impala was here, so was Dean. He quickly shut off the engine of Jess's Taurus and reached for his gun in the middle consol. Climbing out of the car, Sam tucked the gun into the back of his pants and practically ran up the front stairs, his heart pounding loudly in his ears. The worn door was open letting in the cool breeze. Sam pulled out his gun and held it steadily in front of himself, his palms sweating. He crossed over the threshold and looked around the dingy hallway of the only place he could call home.

"Bobby?" he called out softy, his voice echoing off the familiar walls. "Dean? Anyone here?" Sam walked slowly in to the empty living room, no one answering his calls. He made his way to the kitchen, fear racing though his veins. Like the rest of the house, it was empty. Sam wasn't sure if the absence of his brother of Bobby was a good thing or a horrible, horrible sign.

Sam let his gun fall down to his side as he took in the kitchen he spent so many hours of his life in. He remembered all the times his father made his sit at the old, worn table until his homework was finished or he had completed his research for a hunt. Flashes of memories, him and Dean playing cards on a rainy day when they couldn't play outside, dinners that left him breathless from laughing so hard at one of Dean's stupid jokes, that horrifying moment when Dean lay on the floor, blood pooling beneath his body, played in his head like an old movie reel. Sam could feel his panic rise, his breath short and rasping. They weren't here. _Oh God they're not here!_ The voice in his head screamed. _Gordon's got them and he goin' to kill them, oh God oh God no…_

"Hey Bobby since when did you start fixin' up chick cars? You sweet on that lady down the street or somethin'?" Dean's familiar voice rang out as he walked into the kitchen looking down at his grease covered hands. "Why is there a chick car in the driveway?"

"Dean?" Sam breathed taking in the form of his brother, alive and breathing. He had hardly changed in the past couple of years. Maybe a little taller, his hair slightly longer, his muscles firmer, and fresh scruff along his jaw line but still the same Dean he knew. Dean froze, his piercing green eyes snapping up to Sam's face.

"Sammy?" he whispered looking at Sam like he was a ghost. A smile broke out across Sam's face as he closed the distance between him and his brother, wrapping his arms around dean like he was going to slip away at any second. He felt Dean cautiously return the embrace, his arms strong around Sam's back. Sam could feel his tension flee his body. Dean was safe. Gordon didn't have him, he wasn't hurt. Sam broke the embrace, pushing back and thumping Dean on the shoulder.

"What the hell man, did you lose the ability to answer a phone while I was gone?" Sam questioned unable to put the venom in his words, he was too happy to see Dean to be angry, that would come later once the high wore off.

"Sammy," Dean stuttered. "What are you doin' here?"

"I came to see you." Sam explained look at Dean as if he was stupid.

"Yeah I can see that but, why?

"Why? Didn't you see the news? Gordon escaped."

"Yeah I know, that still don't explain why you drove all the way here."

"Still doesn't – Dean I came to see if you were ok!" Sam fumed his anger making an appearance sooner than he thought it would. "Maybe if you answered your damn phone once and a while you'd know!"

"What are you talkin' about Sammy?"

"It's Sam." He snapped. "I tried calling you a dozen times Dean and you didn't answer! I thought Gordon had gotten you! I even tried Bobby and I still didn't get an answer! I was scared Dean! I thought you were dead!"

"So you drove all the way from California to see if I was ok?"

"Yeah dumb ass! Though I'm not sure why I bothered now because you clearly don't care!"

"Hey now Sammy I didn't mean -"

"It's Sam!" He yelled.

"Jesus Christ sorry!" Dean exclaimed throwing his grease rag down on the table. "Fuck Sam, I'm just surprised to see you Jesus!"

"So you know about Gordon?" Sam asked breathing heavily trying to contain his rage.

"Yeah I know about Gordon." Dean nodded watching Sam carefully like he was bomb about to blow.

"Then why didn't you answer my calls?"

"My phone died." Dean said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"And you didn't think to, I don't know, charge it?"

"I lost my charger," Dean snapped. Sam rolled his eyes, typical. "Jesus, college sure made you bitchy."

"Yeah well you're still a jerk." Sam shot back crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn't a bitch.

"So you know I'm not dead or dying now, you gonna head back to your girl?" Dean asked pulling out a kitchen chair and plopping down.

"W-what? I just got here, I'm not gonna just turn around and leave."

"Well I haven't heard from you in two years, how the hell am I suppose to know what you're gonna do?"

"I'm not going to leave Dean." Sam mumbled shifting his feet.

"Good." Dean said. "You wanna beer?"

"Sure." Sam nodded taking a seat at the table across from his brother. Dean rapped his knuckles on the table before standing and grabbing two beers from the fridge. "So where's Bobby?"

"Uh he might be out in the junk yard working on the transformer. We had a bad storm blow in a couple nights ago, knocked the power out. The power company is takin' its sweet time gettin' out here to fix it, so Bobby gonna do it."

"Does he even know how to fix a transformer?" Sam questioned twisting off the cap of his beer as Dean took a seat.

"You'd be surprised what that man can do."

"I guess that explains why Bobby wasn't answering his phone, if the power was out."

"Yeah…"

Sam nodded and began thumbing at the label of his bottle. Million of questions buzzed through his mind but he couldn't find the words to ask them. It was a weird feeling not knowing how to talk to Dean. They had been so close, surely two years of silence wasn't enough to break their bond.

"You think any harder there's gonna be steam comin' out of your ears." Dean chuckled, his green eyes sparkling.

"Huh?"

"What's got your panties in a twist college boy?"

"Nothing." Sam said innocently.

"Sure," Dean smirked. "You're not gonna ask where Dad is?"

"The thought crossed my mind…" he mumbled.

"It's ok, he's not here. He's hunting a Chupacabra down in New Mexico."

"Good. I mean it's good that he's hunting, not that I don't want to see him. I'm just glad he's out there helping people and all…"

"Whatever you say geek boy."

"So how have you been?" Sam asked quickly changing the subject away from his father. That was the last thing he wanted to talk about.

"As good as I can be. Just got back from a hunt a couple days ago."

"Dad lets you hunt solo now?"

"Dude, I'm 26. I think I can handle it." Dean deadpanned.

"That's not what I meant." Sam muttered.

"Relax dude, I'm just messin' with you." Dean smiled. "How's school? You get to third base with your girl yet?"

"That's none of your business Dean." Sam blushed. He remembered the first time he asked Dean how to kiss a girl and received a master class of the female body instead. Sam still thought it was too much information for a twelve year old to know.

"Sam you sly dog." Dean whooped.

"Shut up Dean." Sam whined but couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips.

"But seriously Sam, how've you been?" Dean asked the laughter suddenly gone from his eyes and replaced with an overwhelming amount of concern.

"Good Dean, I've been real good." Sam swallowed. "I've got an interview in a couple weeks if my LSAT score is high enough."

"An interview for what?"

"Law school."

"Law school." Dean repeated with pride in his eyes. "Little Sammy the lawyer."

Sam smiled. Dean's pride was enough to make his heart swell and forget about the pain he felt when he left. Screw his dad and the family business. All he needed was his brother's approval, his dad could shove it.

"What about your girl, you gonna make an honest woman out of her?"

"Like marry her?" Sam gulped thinking of that little black box in his underwear drawer.

"Yeah ass hat, you gonna ask her to marry your sorry ass?"

"Uh,"

"Sam?" Dean asked, concerned at his lack of an answer. "You two are still together right?"

"Oh yeah no, we're still together." Sam said in a rush.

"Well then are you gonna ask her or not?"

"I think I am." He whispered.

"You're shitting me?!" Dean yelped a manic smiled breaking out across his face. "Sammy Winchester is gettin' married! C'mere little brother!" Sam stood just in time to be wrapped up in another bone crunching hug. "Congrats man, really."

"I haven't asked her yet and she still has to say yes." Sam pointed out as Dean let go of him.

"Semantics, and dude you know she's gonna say yes. You're a Winchester, women can't resist us."

"I guess." Sam blushed.

"We gotta go out and celebrate man!" Dean beamed, clapping his hands together.

"You sure that's a good idea?" Sam asked suddenly hit with crippling worry. Gordon was still at large, no doubt gunning for his big brother. "Maybe we should just stay here and celebrate."

"Nah man Bobby doesn't have the good stuff and you kid, deserve the good stuff."

"I don't think we should go out Dean." Sam said again, this time firmer.

"Why the hell not?"

"Because Gordon-"

"Seriously?!" Dean hissed. "You're still on this Gordon thing?"

"Yeah Dean! You're not safe until he's caught!" Sam thundered back.

"Sam, Gordon isn't goin' to come after me." Dean chuckled humorlessly, his hands resting on his hips. Just like that, the happy atmosphere was gone and heavy tension filled the space between the brothers.

"How do you know he's not?" Sam fumed. "You kind of ruined his life Dean, who says he's not goin' to seek revenge?"

"Because revenge isn't Gordon's style Sam." Dean answered.

"Not his style? Dean, this is the guy that tried to kill you, in this kitchen! He almost killed me! You don't think he's capable of a little revenge?"

"I'm well aware of what Gordon is capable Sam." Dean growled sounding more like his dog self than human. The sound sent shivers down Sam's spine as he took an involuntary step backwards. "I didn't forget what he did; I can't forget what he did." Dean's left hand came to rest on his right forearm where Sam knew scars of the past lay hidden. "I'm not a fucking child Sam. If he comes after me then I'll tear his throat out just like I did to that bastard Kev. I don't need protecting."

Sam gulped at the murderous look in his brother's eyes. It was too easy to forget what Dean really was. But when Dean reminded you, he made damn sure you wouldn't forget it again.

"I hate to break it to you Cujo but, Sam's right. It might not be such a good idea to be stickin' your neck out while he's out there." Bobby's gruff voice came from the doorway. Sam spun around to face the new arrival, a smile gracing his face despite his heated argument with his brother.

"Bobby!" he called out happily.

"Hey kid, nice of you to stop by." He smiled warmly. "Now why don't we sit down and talk about this before your dumb ass brother bites something?"

**TBC...**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/n: hey...so sorry for the lack of updates y'all, I really don't have a good excuse for it other than my muse left me. But it's back now and I'm ready to get the ball rolling. I plan on posting a new chapter ever other Sunday. So there will not be an update next Sunday but, there will be and update the Sunday after that. Thank y'all so much for sticking with me and this story. And as always, thank you for the reviews, favorites, and follows! I hope you enjoy!**

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Dean growled low in this throat as Bobby smirked. Trust the ornery old bastard to get in the way. He was never one to let the brothers argue for long. It was like he had his own special spidey sense that started tingling when ever Sam and Dean got into a tiff. Bobby would pop up out of nowhere and settle things before they had the chance to escalate. It didn't matter if it had nothing to do with the old man, he would always butt in. It drove Dean up the wall.

"This don't have anything to do with you Bobby." Dean growled.

"It's happenin' in my kitchen ain't it?" Bobby shot back retrieving a beer from the fridge and taking a seat at the table. "So Sam, what brings you around?"

"I heard about Gordon's escape on the news and this dumb ass can't answer his phone so I came by to check on him."

"I don't need a damn babysitter." Dean spat leaning up against the kitchen sink.

"Your brother's just lookin' out for you ya idjit."

"I don't need him to-"

"Look out for you yeah, yeah I know. But he ain't wrong with this Dean. You need to keep an eye out. And goin' out to a bar ain't the best way to go about doin' that."

"See I told you." Sam bragged like the brown nosed kid he was.

"Shut up Sam." Dean barked crossing his arms defensively, his hackles rising.

"Come on man, even Bobby agrees with me." Sam pleaded. "You just have to lay low for a while, wait for the cops to catch him."

"And how long is that gonna take?" Dean snapped. Sam bit his lip and looked down at his hands. "Years, Sam. It could take fucking years and what? You just want me to hide out till then? Run away like a coward with my tail between my legs? Dad taught us to fight not run. I'm not gonna hide away until Gordon's safe behind bars again. If he wants a piece of me than I say bring it on. I can take 'em. I'm not some invalid that needs protection!"

"I never said you were Dean, I just don't want you to get hurt!"

"Well you can't care that much since you left me to hunt alone while you played Joe College for two years!"

"Dean that's enough." Bobby interjected his tone holding no room for argument. His grey blue eyes pierced Dean with a look of pure venom letting Dean know exactly who was in the wrong. _Figures, the second I stand up for myself and call Sam out on his bullshit, I'm the one who is wrong, _he thought bitterly.

It only took one glance in Sam's direction to see the look of shock and hurt painted across his baby brother's face. Dean could feel the slight pang of guilt curl in his belly for putting that look on Sam's face but his anger soon overpowered the feeble wave of emotion.

"Fine, whatever." He grunted clenching his jaw tight and storming out of the kitchen. He heard Sam's pathetic plea over the slamming of the screen door but chose to ignore it. His skin itched as if thousands of ants were making their way up and down his body. The increasing need to shed it rose with every heartbeat. His mind was swirling with rage, hurt, and disappointment making things muddled and confusing to understand. He needed to get out of his body and fast. As he entered the garage, Dean began to strip off his clothes and fold them into a neat pile on the work bench. Taking a deep breath, he let the tingling sensation of his bones softening and reshaping take over until he was standing on four paws and covered in thick fur.

Shifting was his coping method. When things became too much to handle Dean found comfort in the simplicity in his dog mind. He could deal with his emotions better, focus on one feeling instead of having them all suffocate him at once. And now all he could think about was his anger. Taking off into a run Dean wove in and out of busted up cars until he found and old rusted El Camino in the back of the lot. The doors of the car had been taken off and the upholstery had been ripped to almost shreds. Dean hopped up onto the passenger side seat and began tearing away at the remaining leather with a vengeance.

He was so sick and tired of people treating him with kid gloves. It was the same old song, ever since Bobby took him away from the training house. Poor little Dean, always needing someone to look after him, can't dare trust him to look after himself. First it was Bobby and then it was Dad and now fucking Sam. He was a grown man damn it! He was a fucking skinwalker for crying out loud! He could kill someone with a snap of his jaws if he wanted to! He didn't need to be looked after and cuddled.

It's true that he couldn't really blame Sam for wanting to keep him safe. Hell, if the roles were reversed, Dean wouldn't let Sam take a damn breath without someone watching him. But this was him they were talking about, Dean freakin Winchester! He could handle himself.

Once the old leather was a in a pile on the floor board, Dean moved to the back seat. Growls escaped through his muzzle as he attacked the seat, his claws wicked sharp and unforgiving. The car was Bobby's idea. It gave Dean something to take his aggression out on rather than a person. Ever since he had killed Kev back at the old training house Dean's skinwalker instincts grew more predominate. His sense of smell and hearing became sharper than they had even been. Now he could hear a heart beating miles away and could smell Mrs. Robinson famous biscuits and gravy baking from her diner all the way in town. But along with his heightened senses, his aggression also grew, thus the creation of Bobby's idea. It was a blessing really, having the car to abuse; he'd rather tear it apart than to jump an un-expecting Bobby or Dad in their sleep.

By the time that most of the backseat was demolished, Dean could feel his fury begin to fade. He was still pissed, there was no doubt about that, but his anger had fallen to a more manageable level that he felt safe to return back to the house. Jumping down from the car Dean began to make his way back through the yard. Half way through the lot Dean's ears perked up at the sound of an engine less than a mile off. Bobby wasn't expecting any visitors today; he would have told Dean if he was. Dean made it a habit of changing into his dog form if any hunters came a calling. It was an old habit from when he was younger that he'd never got around to breaking. Picking up speed, he trotted back to the house reaching the front porch just as a police cruiser pulled up. A spike of fear shot through his body as he watched the lady cop step out of the car adjusting her jacket and smoothing out her hair.

_Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit._ Thought Dean, his tail wagging rapidly as his heart thumped out a pounding rhythm against his rib cage. A cop showing up to anyone's door is one thing but, a cop showing up at a hunter's door was never a good sign.

Dean watched the lady cop walk up the rickety steps to Bobby's front porch, her lips set in a hard line. She wasn't all that bad looking for an older woman, soft brown eyes and short hair that framed her heart shaped face. But her looks didn't ease Dean's dread. The lady cop knocked firmly on the door then folded her hands professionally in front of her, barely sparing Dean a look where he stood at the edge of the junk yard. Taking cautious steps, Dean made his way to the bottom of the porch and waited for Bobby to answer the door.

There was the faint thump of footsteps before Bobby's door swung open to reveal not Bobby but all six feet and four inches of Sam.

"Unless Bobby found the fountain of youth I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that you ain't him." The lady cop said with a quirk of her lips.

"Uhh yeah I'm his n-nephew." Sam stuttered shooting Dean a panic glace that the lady cop most defiantly didn't miss. Dean let out low growl when she turned around and made eye contact with him. Now that he had caught the cop's attention, he climbed the stairs and sat down by Sam's feet protectively. The lady cop's face broke out in a smile and bent down to pet him but Dean let out a low warning growl as her hand drew closer, his muzzle parting to reveal a row of sharp teeth. "He's not a big fan of petting." Sam offered with an apologetic smile. "Dean's a pretty grumpy puppy."

_Bastard_. Dean thought as he let out a bark making them both jump.

"Yeah, I'm getting that." The lady cop said retracting her hand. "So…"

"Sam." His brother offered with his good old boy smile.

"Sam, is your uncle here?"

"Uh yeah," Sam said with a nod before turning his head towards the house and bellowing for Bobby. The lady cop kept her gaze on Dean, her eyes full of suspicion and curiosity. It made Dean's skin crawl.

"I didn't know Bobby had a nephew." Lady cop stated pulling her eyes away from Dean as they waited for Bobby to appear.

"I, uh, don't get out here a lot." Sam explained fumbling his words as he cooked up a decent lie. Dean let out a huff, laughing at his brothers struggles. "I'm pretty busy with school and all. I don't get much time to visit."

_More like you_ don't _want to visit_. Dean thought bitterly.

"What school do you go to?" lady cop questioned politely.

"Stanford." Sam gleamed with pride; his eyes alight with a joy Dean hardly ever saw on his brother's face. The sight made Dean's heart clench painfully.

"Stanford, wow. You must be a pretty smart kid." She said with a smile.

"You pesterin' my guest Sherriff?" Bobby's gruff voice rumbled as he stepped into the doorway behind Dean.

"Just makin' conversation Mr. Singer." Lady cop smiled sweetly.

"Well what can I do for ya today Sherriff Mills?"

"I'm sure you've heard the news about the nationwide man hunt for Gordon Walker?" Sherriff Mills said formally. Dean felt Sam stiffen beside him. "We have reason to believe that Walker might return to Sioux Falls. So, I would just like to encourage you to be on the lookout for anyone resembling Walker and to report it immediately. Walker is considered armed and dangerous so don't get any crazy ideas about taking him on, just call our hotline and stay indoors. We've also put in place a curfew until he has been caught."

"What makes you think he'll come here?" Sam asked in a quiet voice.

"Gordon Walker is a very dangerous and sick man; we don't think that revenge on those who put him away is above him."

"Well we'll be sure to keep an eye out Sherriff."

"I'm serious Bobby, don't do anything stupid." Sherriff Mills warned her eyes narrowing.

"I may be old but I'm not stupid Jody. I'm not goin' anywhere near that kook. I swear." Bobby argued sounding almost genuine except for the fact that he was lying through his teeth. Sherriff Mills gave him one last scrutinizing look before nodding her head.

"I hope so Bobby Singer. It was nice to meet you Sam. Bobby." She said with a nod of her head before walking down the steps and back to her car. Sam and Bobby waited until her cop car was no longer visible before turning to look down at Dean.

"See Dean, even the Sherriff thinks Gordon's gonna come back." Sam wined like a five year old. Dean growled.

"Sam, why don't you call your girl, let her know you made it?" Bobby suggested trying to defuse the fight that was brewing. "Let me handle Dean."

Sam clenched his fists tightly by his sides but left without a single word of protest. Dean began to pace, his frustration rising. God damn it, God damn it all. Why did that fucker have to break out and start all this mess? Why did no one trust him enough to look after himself? It was all just so God damn frustrating.

"He's only lookin' out for you kid." Bobby said softly, his grey blue eyes tracking Dean's movements. Dean shot him a look. _He doesn't need to look out for me. I'm the big brother, that's my job, not his._ "He just don't want to lose you Dean, that's all. He knows you can take care of yourself; he just wants you to be safe. We all do." with that he turned and walked back into the house. Dean retracted his claws and tore a long scratch into the wood below his paw. Fucking Bobby and his fucking wisdom, always calling him out and making him feel like a jackass. With a huff Dean took off in the direction of the junk yard, he had another appointment with his car.

~*0*~

It was late by the time Dean made his way back to the house, walking on two legs. All the lights were off and not a sound could be heard. A plate of food sat out on the counter waiting for Dean, no doubt left by Sam. Bobby would have left him to fair for himself, the ornery old bastard a firm believer in the reasoning 'if you weren't here for dinner, you don't get to eat'. Dean was use to it. Bobby had started that tradition when Dean was around twelve, hitting the rebellious teenage stage. Add a growth spurt and raging hormones to an already unstable skinwalker and you had the perfect recipe for a volatile Dean Winchester. Eventually Dean grew out of it, but the rule stuck even after Dean left to hunt with his father and Sam.

Stuffing the sandwich into his mouth Dean climbed the stairs to his room completely ready to pass out for the night. It had been a hell of a day. First the arrival of his brother, which did not get off to a good start, and then all the turmoil surrounding the stupid Gordon situation left Dean feeling beyond drained. He would be perfectly happy to sleep for days. He rounded the corner at the top of the stairs brushing the crumbs off his shirt as he drew closer to his room. Sam would no doubt be passed out on the bed next to his, sleeping peacefully. However, when Dean pushed open his bedroom door that was not the sight he was greeted with.

Sam lay on his back, sweat soaking through his grey t-shirt. His head tossed side to side on his pillow, his fingers tightly gripping the sheets. Pained whimpers escaped from his partly closed mouth as his chest rose and fell rapidly. Without hesitation Dean bounded into the room gripping Sam's shoulders tightly when he reached his brother's bed.

"Sam!" he called attempting to rouse his brother from his nightmare. "Sammy wake up! Come on dude snap out of it! Sammy!" he yelled placing a hard slap across his brother's face. Sam jerked in Dean's hold, his eyes snapping open. "Hey man, you with me?" Dean asked firmly, trying his hardest to hide his worry.

"Y-yeah, I'm ok." Sam breathed still panting as if he had just finished a marathon. Dean watched as his brother pulled himself together, taking slow calming breaths. It almost looked routine, like he had done this countless times.

Sam was never the one to have nightmares; that had always been Dean's gig. He had however, had a couple after the showdown with Gordon and the incident at the training house but Dean had always been there to bring Sam out of them. It scared him to think that these haunting dreams were a reoccurring thing leaving Sam to deal with the fear without Dean around to make it better.

"You sure little brother?" Dean asked not removing his hand from Sam's shoulder, holding on like it was the only thing keeping them both grounded.

"Yeah Dean, I'm good." Sam replied with a nod of his head. "How about you, you good now?"

"I'm always good Sammy." Dean smirked with his trademark shit eating grin.

"I'm serious Dean."

"So am I." he deadpanned. Sam studied his face for a moment before giving in. Dean held onto him a moment longer before letting his arms drop to his side and taking a seat on the edge of Sam's bed. "You wanna talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Sam asked tiredly.

"Whatever it was that gave you the spooks."

"No, not really."

"Because you know if you wanted to I'd be here to listen, do all that big brother stuff."

"No Dean." Sam snapped forcefully. Dean blinked. "I-don't wanna talk about it ok? So can we just let it go?"

"Yeah." Dean said pushing up from Sam's bed, ignoring the hurt he felt. "Sure whatever, I get it."

"Dean-"

"It's fine Sam. You don't wanna talk about it. No need to beat a dead horse." He said stripping down to his boxers.

"I didn't mean it like that I-" Sam pleaded but Dean brushed him off, flopping down on his bed and turning to face away from his brother.

"Forget it Sam, ok? Just go back to sleep." Dean mumbled ending the conversation. He evened out his breathing until Sam matched his, his little brother slowly falling back to sleep. The conversation probably upset him more than it should. He always knew this day would come, the day Sammy didn't want to talk to him, tell him things. When they were little, after he left Bobby's, Sam would tell him everything. He'd talk about school, the kids in his class, whatever Dad did to piss him off that day; sometimes it was almost impossible to get the kid to shut up. Now it seemed like those days were over, his kid brother was all grown up now, Mr. College. Dean was no longer Sam's most trusted confidant.

He'd get over it, he'd have to. Dean swallowed hard and closed his eyes, his hand finding the little gold amulet that always hung around his neck. It wasn't a big deal, Sam was just growing up. Dean guessed he would have to too.

**TBC...**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/n: Thank you for all the reviews, follows and favorites! Now, as promised, I give you chapter 5!**

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Sam woke to the morning sun filling an empty room with a warm, bright light. Shutting his eyes against the unwanted intrusion, he reached blindly for his phone on the nightstand. After much grumbling and finally giving into the fact that he just might have to open his eyes to see, Sam sat up and flipped open his phone only to find the numbers 7:30 glaring back at him.

"Son of a…" he grumbled rubbing his hand over his tired face. He felt worn out despite having just woken up. Flashes of dreams filled with fire and blonde hair hung on the fringes of his mind. A cold chill shot down his spine as he tried to push the images away. It was just a dream nothing more, nothing less. But still the realness of his nightmare held fast, just like they had for the past few weeks. He had tried everything to try and keep the nightmares away, watching horror flicks before bed, reading law books, even trying sleeping pills but despite his efforts the dreams still came. After countless nights of the same horrifying dream, the mantra of 'it's just a dream' had started to feel more like a prayer than the truth.

Sam shook his head fighting back dark thoughts as he punched in a number he knew by heart and brought his phone up to his ear.

"Hello?" a soft, sleepy voice asked.

"Jess, hey." Sam breathed, his heart unclenching, relief flooding through his veins.

"Sam? What is it? Is something wrong?"

"Uh no, no everything's fine. I just wanted to hear your voice."

"At five thirty in the morning?" she chuckled, still heavy with sleep but in good humor.

"Shit, I forgot about the time difference."

"Did you have another nightmare?" she questioned gently. Sam swallowed hanging his head. "You know they're just dreams right Sam? They're not real."

"I know, believe me." He whispered. "They just feel so real."

"Are you ever going to tell what they are about?"

"They're nothing, just normal nightmare stuff." Sam tried to brush off.

"Yeah whatever you say." Jess said clearly not believing him. Sam felt horrible lying to her but he couldn't tell Jess the truth. Saying it out loud made them true and this was one dream that needed to stay as a dream. "So when are you coming home?"

"I'm not sure yet." he sighed rubbing his temples. "Things with my brother are…"

"Complicated, I get it." Jess finished for him no hint of malice or disappointment evident in her sweet voice. "Take as much time as you need Sam, I'll be here."

"I love you." Sam smiled.

"Yeah, yeah I know. I love you too."

"Go back to sleep." Sam told her.

"Call me late ok?"

"I will, bye Jess." He said before hanging up and tossing his phone onto the bed. Resting his chin on his hands, Sam sighed. Sometimes it still baffled him that he was lucky enough to find a girl like Jess, which only made the thought that his dream might come true even worse. He could almost hear Dean's mocking voice in his head, _buck up dude it's just a dream. No use getting your panties in a wad_. A smiled teased his lips as he glanced over at his brother's empty bed.

Dean. He wasn't lying when he said things with his brother were complicated. Sam could spend the rest of his life trying to figure his brother out and still never come up with an answer. He remembered the look of hurt that flashed a crossed Dean's face last night when he refused to share the details of his dream. Dean would be the first person to tell him to shake it off and ignore any feelings he might have but his reaction last night told a different story. To say Dean was an enigma was an understatement. He was more like an enigma wrapped in a question and covered in hypocrisy. What was acceptable for one Dean Winchester did not extend to others with absolutely no logical reasoning behind it. Rubbing a hand over his face, Sam rose to his feet setting out to find his elusive big brother.

The down stairs of Bobby's house was still, the faintest smell of coffee wafting from the kitchen. There was no tale tell signs of his brother in any of the rooms so Sam pushed open the screen porch door and headed out into the early morning. A cool breeze brushed against his face as he walked towards the garage where he could hear Led Zeppelin filtering through busted up speakers. He took a seat at the grease covered work bench and waited for Dean to surface from underneath the Impala.

"You do know how creepy you're bein' right?" Dean's muffled voice stated breaking the silence in the garage.

"I'm not creepy, you're creepy." Sam fired back.

"Yeah ok." Dean said rolling out from under the Impala. "Hand me that rag will ya?" he asked pushing himself up into a sitting position.

"Heads up."

"Thanks." Dean said gratefully catching the rag Sam threw in midair.

"So what are you doing up so early? If I remember correctly, it use to take a bull horn and a bucket of ice to get you up before eight." Sam asked sitting back down.

"What can I say, I'm a changed man." Dean grumbled, looking anywhere but at Sam. "What about you? Having trouble sleeping?"

"No more than usual." Sam offered.

"Yeah I bet." He scoffed. Sam felt a pang of guilt at the hurt look on his brother's face. It was almost the same look he wore last night only this time, Dean didn't bother to hide it. He looked defeated, like someone had kicked his puppy or stolen his favorite toy. It made Sam feel responsible for putting that look on the man who had done so much for him, he just didn't know why.

"Listen, Dean." Sam began softly. "I'm sorry about yesterday."

"It's fine Sam."

"No it's not, I get why you're pissed but can you blame me?"

"I guess I can't. If you don't want to talk to me anymore, that's fine. You don't need to keep dragging it up." Dean shot, getting to his feet.

"It's not that – wait, what are you talking about?" Sam asked thoroughly confused. He was trying to apologize for pushing Dean yesterday during their argument about Gordon but somehow his brother was on a different wave length.

"I get that you're all grown up now and if you don't want to tell me stuff then you don't have to." Dean continued ignoring Sam's confusion. "I just hoped that maybe, I don't know, you'd still trust me the way you did before but, if you don't want to – fine."

"Don't trust you – Dean what are you talking about? Of course I still trust you!" Sam argued standing and following his brother over to the tool box.

"You don't have to Sam."

"Dude, Dean what are you talking about man?"

"Last night Sam!" Dean snapped turning to face his brother. "I'm talking about last night!"

"About the dream I had? You're upset that I didn't tell you about my dream?"

"Hell yes I am! You use to tell me everything but ever since you left for school it's like…"

"Like what Dean?" Sam prodded. Dean's eyes were shining, his face tight. Sam could feel his heart thump in his chest, silently hoping that Dean wasn't going to make him feel guilty for going to school. That was something he'd expect from Dad but never Dean.

"Like you don't trust me anymore man." Dean whispered his eyes down cast. Sam felt his heart burst.

"Seriously?" Sam laughed. The second the chuckle passed his lips he knew it was a mistake. Dean's eyes darkened, his lips thinning into a hard line.

"You think I'm being stupid?" He hissed. "I'm not the one putting you on lock down, treating you like a kid who can't handle them self!"

"Why do I get the feeling that we aren't talking about last night?" Sam asked. But his question fell on deaf ears as Dean continued on with his rant.

"Jesus, you and Bobby act like I'm gonna do somethin' stupid and end up dead! Do you really think that little of me? You don't trust me enough to look after myself? Hell, you can't even trust me with a nightmare!" he bellowed.

"Dean, fuck. Calm down." Sam begged resting his hand on his brother's chest, feeling his brother's heart beat wildly under his palm. "It's not like that ok?"

"Then what is like Sam?" Dean snapped. "Please inform me."

"I'm worried about you, that's all." Sam began. "It's not that I don't trust you, I do. And it's not that I don't think you can hold your own. I just – I just don't want to see you get hurt alright?" Dean's eyes locked on Sam's face, full of anger and misery that only made Sam want to spit the words out faster. "I've seen enough of your blood to last a life time man. I don't want to see it anymore. I want you to be there when I graduate, stand up with me at my wedding, hell, I want you to be there when my first kid is born. I don't want you to be dead. I trust you Dean." Sam emphasized his voice thick with emotion. "I swear I trust you with my life. I just want you safe and not dead."

Sam could feel the tears sting his eyes as he let his words wash over him. That was his greatest fear, the reason why he dropped everything and ran back to the life he left behind. He just wanted Dean to be safe. He had lost his brother once, almost lost him for a second time too. He would not let his brother get taken from him again.

Dean swallowed thickly before nodding his head. Breathing a sigh of relief Sam continued to reassure his brother.

"And about last night dude, me not telling you about my dream wasn't because I don't want to talk to you anymore, I just thought you'd get tired of hearing about homicidal clowns, that's all."

"Yeah well you were always such a girl." Dean answered in a gravelly voice.

"Shut up jerk, you were the one freaking out because I wasn't 'talking' to you." Sam claimed hitting Dean playfully on the shoulder.

"Whatever bitch." He smiled. "Since you're out here and all, you mind given me a hand?"

"You want me to help you fix the Impala?" Sam laughed. Dean seemed to think about it for a minute, his face going pale before giving a little shutter.

"Yeah no, you're right never mind." He said quickly before grabbing a wrench and plopping down on the rolling board.

"Hey Dean?" Sam asked taking a seat once more at the work bench.

"Yeah?"

"If you have the Impala, what is Dad driving?"

"Oh uh, he got a truck." Dean said with a shrug before rolling under the car.

"He got a truck? Where did he get the money to buy and truck?"

"Didn't buy it. Won it. In a poker game." Dean called.

"So he just gave you the Impala?"

"Hell yeah!" Sam didn't need to see his brother's face to see his grin. He just rolled his eyes and let the soft music fill the lull. "Talk to me Sam." Dean demanded after a moment or two.

"About what?"

"Anything, everything. Talk to me about school or that hot little girl friend of yours. You get to third base yet?"

"Dude." Sam moaned at his brother's shamelessness.

"What, it's a legit question man." Dean argued rolling back out from underneath the car, a serious look on his face.

"I'm not telling you, you pervert." Sam said throwing a dirty rag at his brother. Dean just stuck his tongue out and slid back under the car.

"Whatever, prude."

"I'm not a prude Dean."

"Does your girlfriend know that?"

"Jesus Christ dude!" Sam yelled.

"Fine if you want to be boring, tell me about school." Dean amended. Sam huffed for a moment more out of respect for Jess' virtue before launching into school talk. He talked for what seemed like hours while Dean puttered around with the Impala, interjecting here and there with a question or a nod of the head. It felt good to just talk, knowing there was no judgment to come, just say what was on his mind. It almost seemed ridiculous that Dean believed that Sam no longer wanted to do this. Talking with his brother, just the two of them, was one of the greatest things on earth. It wasn't until much later, when Bobby came out with a plate of sandwiches that Sam realized how long they had been out there.

"I see you two have kissed and made up." Bobby deadpanned as Sam attacked the food with vehemence.

"And I see you are still as crotchety as ever old man." Dean smiled sweetly causing Sam to choke on a piece of bread. Bobby rolled his eyes as Dean doubled over in laughter.

"I think I liked it better when you two were fighting."

"Don't be like that Bobby. You know we'll still love you once you finally lose all that hair."

"You wish boy. I ain't going bald."

"I don't know Bobby." Sam said with concern. "It's lookin' a little thin if you ask me. I think Dean is on to something. Maybe you should look into getting hair plugs." It was Dean's turn to choke as Sam crackled at his own joke. Bobby just threw his hands into the air and walked away, leaving the boys gasping for air and tears leaking out of their eyes.

~*0*~

"Where's that brother of yours?" Bobby asked as Dean dropped down on the couch, a beer in his hands.

"Went to the store for some grub. He should be home soon." Dean replied before taking a long drink.

"Everything good between you two now?" He asked, shuffling around some paper on his cluttered desk.

"Yeah, were good."

"So you understand why we don't want you runnin' around with Gordon on the loose?"

"Jesus Christ, yes Bobby I do. Are we done with the repetitive questions yet?"

"I guess so. Just makin' sure the point got through that thick skull of yours." Bobby said with a grin.

"It did you can stop now." Dean exclaimed. "I swear you and Sam are like chicks always naggin' me."

"And how would you know, you haven't picked up a chick in weeks."

"Low blow man." Dean grunted turning the old T.V. on as Bobby chuckled. "Fuck what is takin' that kid so long? It's not like he had to kill the cow and then cook it."

"Maybe he's stuck in traffic." Bobby offered as he flipped through a lore book.

"Yeah because downtown Sioux Falls is notorious for its traffic." Dean mocked. "I'm gonna give him a call." He decided, fishing out his phone and hitting number two on his speed dial. Dean knew Bobby was probably right but in his experience it never hurt to double check. His first call went unanswered, only reaching Sam's voice mail instead of his little brother. The second time he called, Sam picked up on the second ring. "Jesus Sammy what's takin' you so long? You go to Timbuktu to get those burgers or somethin'?"

"Sammy can't come to the phone right now." Gordon Walker's smooth voice replied calmly and clearly over the phone speaker. "He's a little tied up."

* * *

**TBC...until then, tell me what you think!  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/n: Hey y'all! Sorry for the delay, it's been a crazy summer so far! And it doesn't seem to be slowing down so I can't say for sure when the next update will be but, I'll try to make it soon! Thanks for sticking with me! Enjoy :)**

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"Let him go you so of a bitch." Dean snarled into the speaker, the phone clenched tightly in his hand. He heard Bobby's chair scrape across the worn floor and ask him something in a gruff voice but Dean's focus was solely on the other end of the line.

"Oh come on Dean you know I can't do that." Gordon explained simply, like he was chatting with an old friend. His nonchalant tone sent a spike of rage through his veins.

"Yeah and why the hell not?"

"You're a smart pup Dean, I'm sure you know how a trade works." He chuckled.

"Sam's not a fucking bargaining chip asshole." Dean all but hissed. "You wanna make a trade, you let him go and then we'll talk about a trade."

"Dean, Dean, Dean. You're not gonna make this easy are you?"

"Hand Sam over and we'll talk, can't get any easier than that."

"It's not gonna work like that Dean. If you want your darling little Sammy back in one piece, you'll meet me at Palisades State Park, cabin 6 in one hour, alone or Sammy is going to get very acquainted with a knife of mine."

"You touch him I swear to God I'll rip out your throat." Dean growled, venom lacing his voice.

"And people tell me you aren't a killer. Seems to me that I'm the only one who sees what you really are Dean. One hour." And with that Gordon ended the call, leaving the dial tone to play in Dean's ear. In one swift motion, Dean chucked the phone across the room and watched it shatter as it collided with the wall.

"Son of a bitch!" he yelled, his whole body thrumming with fury. God damn it, damn it all to hell! Everyone was so worried that Gordon would come after him, they hadn't bothered to consider that he would go after the one thing Dean cared about the most. He was going to kill that bastard.

"Dean!" Bobby yelled his voice hard and annoyed. "You mind tellin' me what the hell is goin' on?!"

"Gordon. Gordon's got Sam." Dean said weakly the anger rushing out of him as the reality hit him. His knees shook as his world came crushing down. Gordon had Sam. He had one job, only one job and he had failed. Sam was in danger and it was entirely Dean's fault. He felt his stomach twist and nausea rise.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, breathe Dean. C'mon son calm down and tell me what Gordon said." Bobby said grabbing Dean by the shoulders and setting him down on the couch. "What did he say about Sam?"

"H-he wants to make a trade." Dean swallowed, his chest still rising and falling rapidly.

"Did he say what for?"

"No, but isn't it obvious?" Dean asked his voice devoid of all emotions. "He wants me Bobby."

"Over my dead body." Bobby said forcefully. "He ain't gettin' you or your brother. Did he give you a place to meet up?"

"Palisades State Park, cabin 6."

"Alright, we gotta strategize."

"Yeah it's simple, I go, Sam leaves, and I kill Gordon."

"You ain't killin' anybody." Bobby said firmly.

"The hell I'm not!" Dean yelled, his anger rushing back at full force. "That bastard has my brother! If you think for a second that I'm gonna let him walk away breathing then you have lost your damn mind!"

"I'm not lettin' you walk in there and hand yourself over without someone watching your back!" Bobby snapped back.

"What are you gonna do Bobby? The nearest hunter is five hours away and even then their bound to find out about my little condition!"

"I'm not talkin' about another hunter."

"Then who the hell are you talkin' about?"

~*0*~

Sam was never volunteering to grab dinner again. One second he was walking back to his car when there was a sharp explosion of pain at the back of his head and then nothing. The next thing he knew, he was tied to a chair staring down a barrel of a gun. Swallowing hard, Sam blinked, trying to clear his vision. Surly he was just seeing things and that was not Gordon Walker pointing a gun at him.

"Hey'a Sam." Gordon said watching him carefully. "How's the head?" as if on cue, a brutal pulsing made itself known causing Sam to groan in pain.

"Peachy." He lied.

"It's good to see you again Sam. You grew up tall."

"Can't say the same about you. D'you have fun in the big house? Someone make you their bitch?" Sam asked, earning him a hard slap to the cheek which only made his head throb harder.

"Funny Sam, that's real funny." Gordon sniffed, collecting himself once more. "You sound more and more like your brother. Such a shame."

"What do you want from me Gordon?" he questioned tiredly.

"I want Dean." He said simply.

"And what you think I'm gonna give him to you?" Sam chuckled.

"No, I don't think that, you love him too much to turn on him. Luckily, he loves you just as much and would do anything for you."

"So what, I'm your bargaining chip?"

"You were always the smart one."

"Dean's not gonna fall for it."

"Don't count on that Sammy." Gordon winked with a nasty smile as he pulled Sam's phone from his pocket. After punching in a number, Gordon held it up to his eat with an impassive expression on his face that sent chills down his spine. "Sammy can't come to the phone right now. He's a little tied up."

Sam fought against his bindings trying to loosen the rope that held him down. He could hear Dean's predatory growl emanating from the phone. Dean was going to be so pissed, even more so now that he had been proven right. He had said over and over that he wasn't in danger, that Gordon wasn't going to go after him. How was Sam supposed to know that he would be the next target? _You should have known_, Sam hissed at himself. As Gordon talked, Sam took the opportunity to look around. It was dark; the only light source a naked bulb hanging from the low ceiling and a few beams of sunlight filtering through the two covered windows by the door. The walls were bare, rough, wood as well as the floor. A small wood burning furnace was tucked away in the corner next to a camp bed. If Sam had to guess, he'd say he was in cabin, probably a hunting cabin deep in the woods, far from any civilization, drastically lessening his chance of being found. Wonderful.

"And people tell me you aren't a killer. Seems to me that I'm the only one who see what you really are Dean. One hour." Gordon said before snapping the phone shut and tucking back into his pocket.

"He's not gonna show, you might as well kill me now." Sam offered, still tugging at his restraints. "He knows you're just gonna kill us both anyways."

"I have no intention of killing you Sam." Gordon replied, dragging the camp bed closer to where Sam was held.

"Oh that's right, I'm the bargaining chip. Still, it's not gonna work Gordon." Sam huffed.

"You underestimate your brother Sam, he'll come." Gordon explained. "He cares for you too much, that I know. He jumped in front of my gun remember? If I was a betting man, I'd say he would do anything for you Sammy. That's how I know he'll come."

Sam bit his tongue. Gordon was right. It seemed like protecting Sam was ingrained deep inside his brother's psychosis. If it came down to his life or Sam's, his stupid brother would sacrifice himself.

"Why are you doing this? Is this pay back for getting you locked up? Because that was more my Dad then Dean. Dean wasn't even conscience when all that went down."

"This isn't about revenge Sam." Gordon chuckled with an empty laugh, resting his elbows on his knees. "I'm just doing my job."

"And killing Dean is your job?" Sam spat horrified. A flood of panic washed over him. He knew Gordon wanted his brother but something in his cool tone made it clear just how dead set Gordon was on wasting his brother. And what made it worse, Sam knew just how helpless he was to stop it.

"I'm a hunter Sam." Gordon said looking exasperated. "Dean's a monster. I can't just let him go, not when I know what he is and what he's done. It's just got to happen Sam. I'm sorry."

"He's only killed in self defense!" Sam yelled louder than necessary. He could let this happen. He had to find a way to stop Gordon and if that he had to scream his lungs out in hopes that someone, anyone, could hear him. It didn't hurt that he the emotion to back up his yelling. "He's not a monster, he'd never hurt anyone!"

"Not yet. But I'm not gonna sit around and wait for him to slip up. I gotta put the dog down before he goes rabid." Gordon sighed getting to his feet and pulling a roll of duck tape out of a duffle.

"Please Gordon." Sam begged. "He's my brother, please just, don't."

"Sorry Sam." He shrugged before placing the tape over Sam's lips. With fear gripping at his heart, Sam hung his head in defeat, sending out a prayer that maybe just this once, Dean wouldn't come for him.

**TBC...**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/n: hey y'all, here's the next chapter as promised! Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"No, hell no Bobby! What are thinking?" Dean asked looking at Bobby like was seconds away from passing out.

"I trust her, 'sides she's always known somethin' was up. She has for a long time." Bobby tried to explain. Dean shook his head and began pacing the living room. He really didn't understand why bobby felt the need to bring someone in, a civilian no less. They were just wasting time they didn't have. Gordon still had Sam and arguing about some chick, some cop to help wasn't bringing them any closer to saving Sam. Dean had half a mind to sneak out and rescue Sam by himself, like he was suppose to. To hell if he didn't make it out alive, as long as Sam lived that was all that mattered. After all, it was his fault that Sam had been taken in the first place. If he had charged his damn phone he would have gotten Sam's call and all of this could have been avoided. Sam would have never had to leave his girl and end up in this shit of a situation.

"He said to come alone Bobby. I'm not putting Sam in more danger by bring some cop along who, by the way, knows nothing about the what really happened and me!" Dean yelled his pulse pounding.

"And I'm not sending you to your death Dean!" Bobby roared back.

"I can take care of myself!"

"I'm not sayin' that! You're not a killer Dean! I don't wanna see you become somethin' you're not!"

"In case you haven't noticed, I kill things all the time and don't bother telling me that I only kill because those sons of bitches because they deserved it! Gordon has my brother Bobby, trust me, he deserves it!"

"I ain't sayin' that he don't deserve it Dean." Bobby said his voice lowering and concern flooding his eyes. "I just want you and Sam to come out of this breathing. A little extra help won't hurt no one."

A sharp knock on the front door cut off any response Dean might have had. Giving him a pat on the shoulder as he passed by, Bobby made his way to the door.

"Bobby Singer, I can honestly say that I was surprised to get your call." Sheriff Jody Mills's soft voice laughed from the doorway.

"Sheriff, come on in."

Dean propped himself up on the opposite wall by Bobby's desk as the Sheriff and his surrogate father entered the room. The sheriff's warm brown eyes immediately locked with his, a supervised look dancing across her face. "Sheriff, this is my other nephew, Dean."

"Other nephew? Bobby Singer you are just full of surprises today." She chucked with an arch of her brow before turning her attention to Dean. "It's a pleasure to meet you Dean. Hey, don't you have a dog named Dean?"

"No, we don't." Dean snapped. _God damn it Sam._

"So is Sam you're brother?" she continued on, unfazed by Dean's short attitude and obvious distrust.

"Yeah he is."

"Ok, not big on the chic chat I see." She said taking a step back.

"I'm sorry Sheriff; Dean's not normally like this." Bobby apologized, shooting Dean a warning glare. "He's just a little moody today." Dean just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms tighter around his chest.

"It's no problem. " Sheriff Mills said kindly. "So tell me, what is so secret that you couldn't come down to the station and tell me Mr. Singer?"

"Gordon Walker." Bobby answered darkly.

"Oh boy, I should probably sit down for this shouldn't I?" she said before taking a seat on Bobby's old ratty couch. "Please tell me you didn't find him and kill him?"

"Can't say I've had that honor yet Sheriff." Bobby sighed walking around to sit down at his desk. "What do you remember about the case that led to Walker's conviction?"

"Besides it being my first case and fastest case I've ever worked, nothing much. Why?"

"You don't remember anything strange in the findings?"

"I remember some of the tests came back wrong, I just figured the lab messed up the results." Sheriff Mills said offhandedly shooting curious looks in Dean's direction. "What's this all about Bobby?"

"Gordon didn't kill those people sheriff." Bobby admitted plainly like he was commenting on the weather and not incriminating himself in a major crime.

"Bobby!" Dean hissed pushing himself off the wall he was leaning against. He inched closer to the older man, ready to defend Bobby incase the Sheriff pulled out a weapon. _Stupid, crazy, old man._

"What are you talking about Singer?" The Sheriff asked sitting up straighter than before.

"Gordon was framed." He said calmly. "By me."

"Excuse me?" she breathed. "Are you telling me that Walker has been sitting in jail for years, for a crime he didn't commit?"

"Gordon Walker has committed plenty of crimes including tryin' to kill my nephews!" Bobby shot, his voice rising with anger. "Don't go thinkin' that you've do some horrible wrong by keepin' him locked up! That man is a monster and deserves a lot more than a jail cell!"

"That may be but Bobby, you just admitted to a major offence! I'm going to have to arrest you!" she cried pushing herself to her feet and pulling out a shiny pair of cuffs. Dean growled low in his throat and maneuvered himself so he was directly between the Sheriff and Bobby.

"Now wait just a minute Sheriff, I ain't done." Bobby interjected standing up. He placed a gentle hand on Dean's shoulder and whispered softly in his ear. "It's alright there son. She ain't gonna do nothin'"

Dean turned and looked Bobby over. His face was like a stone wall but his eyes glittered with mischief.

"you better know what you're doin' old man. Time's a ticking." Dean warned.

"I know. we're gonna get him back, don't you worry." He said with a comforting pat. Dean nodded and shuffled to the side. "Now Sheriff," Bobby said formally. "Those test results you got back, what exactly was wrong with them?"

"Bobby-"

"Please, Jody, this is important. What did they say?" he begged. The Sheriff gave him a hard look before taking a seat once more on the couch.

"You won't believe me." she whispered.

"Try us." Dean said his voice surprisingly soft. Sheriff Mills gave him one long hard look before glancing down at her folded hands.

"The DNA that came back from the victim wasn't human." She whispered. "And the bodies in the graves, they had the same DNA too."

"That's because they aren't human." Bobby told her. Dean froze. He knew Bobby was speaking technically, he was in fact not human but, his brain decided not to take that into account. Flashes of memories that he had long buried spun in a sickening dance across his mind. The old taunts and jabs rang in his ears, not human, monster, dog, mutt. He began to run his fingers over the thin scars on his forearm that acted as a constant reminder of what he was. With a shake of his head, Dean tried to ignore the whirlwind taking place in his mind and focus on the words the man who raised him was speaking. "They're Skinwalkers."

"S-skinwalkers? Like the Native American legends, those people who can turn into animals?"

"Kind of like that, only they aren't witches. They're just flesh and bone like you and me."

"You're crazy. Those are just stories they don't actually exist." She choked out in a nervous laugh.

"I know it's a lot to take in at once but they do." Bobby pressed on. "Walker here, hunts these creatures for a livin'."

"Right, sure he does." The sheriff nodded. "So assuming that what you're saying is true, that doesn't explain why you killed those…things and how Gordon comes into this."

"Me and Dean's Daddy killed those bastards they took him. Gordon was in town huntin' down Dean too, right place right time kind of thing. So we killed two birds with one stone, killed those sons of bitches who took out boy, pinned the crime on Gordon to take the heat off of us, and to put Gordon away."

"Why was Gordon…" she trailed off her eyes slowly turning to Dean wide with fear.

"Woof, woof." Dean deadpanned. He figured this was coming but it didn't ease the hurt he felt from the Sheriff's look of downright terror. He was a monster after all, people should be afraid of him.

"Holy shit." She gasped, whipping her head back to Bobby. "Holy shit Bobby!"

"Jody you need to calm down!" Bobby warned.

"But-but he's one of them!"

"Dean is my nephew and I'm sure he'd appreciate it if you didn't treat him any differently. Now please, Jody, we're kinda on a clock here."

"W-what?"

"Gordon, he's in town and he's got Dean's brother. We need your help to go after him."

"W-why do you need my help?"

"Because I trust you."

"You hardly know me, how can you trust me?"

"I know you didn't call the cavalry the second you learned that Gordon was innocent, like you should have, and I know that you've had speculation on the case long before I mentioned anything." Bobby explained folding his hands neatly on his desk and pinning the sheriff with his most pointed look. "Please Sheriff."

"This is crazy and lord knows why I'm doing this but I'll do it. I'll help you." she sighed her eyes full of determination. "What do you need me to do?"

"Gather up a few men you can trust." Bobby instructed. "Have them meet us down at Palisased Park. Tell to wait for us."

"What's happening at Palisased?"

"I'll tell you on the way. But now, we gotta go." Bobby said making his way into the kitchen. "Dean you good to go?"

"Are you gonna tell me the plan or what?" Dean asked with a huff.

"The less you know the better. Now go on, go save that bones headed brother of yours."

Without needing to be told twice, Dean ran from the room and out to his car. Cranking the engine, he peeled out of the driveway hoping that whatever Bobby's plan was wasn't going to put his baby brother in deeper trouble.

~*0*~

Sam could feel the sweat trickle down his neck and back as he sat, tied to the chair, no closer to escaping than he was before. What little light that shown through the covered windows had slowly begun to fade away, early evening sounds filling the humid air. Gordon sat by the door, meticulously taking apart his gun, as if cleaning it two million times would suddenly make Dean appear. The interior of the cabin was sticky; the heated air stagnant and heavy. Dean's one hour time period was fast approaching and there was still no sign of his big brother. Sam couldn't help but feel relived.

A crackle sounding from Gordon's duffle broke through the heated silence, awakening Gordon from his ministrations. With heavy foot falls Gordon made his way over to his bag and pulled out a walkie – talkie.

"Uh, this is Ranger Pike, that car you wanted me to look out for - that '67 Impala - just pulled in a couple of minutes ago." A nervous voice called over the speaker.

"You're family thanks you." Gordon responded. "It would be in your best interest to inform me if anyone else stops by tonight, I wouldn't want anything to happen to that beautiful daughter."

"Y-yeah ok I will, just please don't hurt them." The nervous voice agreed, distress coloring his tone. "Please."

"It's all up to you Ranger." Gordon said before throwing the walkie – talkie back into his bag and pulling out a long, thick, silver chain. "It's show time Sammy."

Sam struggled harder, pulling at his bindings as Gordon switched off the light and stepped out of the cabin leaving Sam alone in the sweltering heat. His heart thumped against his rib cage as the familiar rumbled of Dean's car cut through the night. The tape around his mouth held fast, muffling his shouts of warning. His brother was walking to his death and Sam had no way of stopping it. Slowly the cabin door swung open, Dean's gun glinting in the rising moon light.

"Sam?" Dean hissed out in a harsh whisper. "Sammy you here?" there was a moment of fumbling before the single bulb came to life, casting a dim light throughout the cabin. Dean rushed over to where Sam sat and carefully pulled the tape off of his skin.

"Dean it's a trap, Gordon is here, he's gonna kill you." Sam said in a rush as Dean worked quickly at the roped around his feet.

"Yeah I know, but we're gonna get out of here before he gets back." Dean answered.

"I don't think that's going to happen Dean-o." Gordon said from the doorway, the chain resting in his hands. A growl rumbled from his brother's chest as he spun around to face Gordon, his gun held tightly in his hand. But before Dean could fire off a shot, Gordon swung the chain, the links wrapping around his brother's neck pulling him down to the ground with a grunt. "Be a good dog and sit."

TBC...


End file.
